FEVER, DOCTORS, LOST PHILS, AND HARRY AND THE POTTERS

Holy friggin' crap, updates!

I'm not sure if it was exhaustion following all our NYC adventures, or just bad luck, but the moment we hit Boston I came down with a 104 degree fever, complete with the shakes, chills, and crazy fever dreams. I just couldn't shake the sucker! Luckily, we were headed up to a cabin in Vermont for the next few days to recover with our dear friend Stevie. Her parents have this cabin that's right on a lake in the middle of the woods, and it was great. Except that it wasn't, not for me, at least. My fever kept getting worse and worse until I couldn't swallow or breath easily, so we decided to go the nearest hospital, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.

Now, like everyone else my age in this goddamn backwards country, I can't afford health insurance, so, well, I don't have it. Therefore, the plan was to...well, bend the truth when it came to my personal information at the hospital.

I went through the whole check in procedure flawlessly, and they didn't suspect a thing...or did they?

They lead me and Katie to a room to wait for the doctor. Finally, he comes in, and with a MEAN Brooklyn accent (yes, I know, we were in the middle of nowhere Vermont...) tells me:

"I got bad news, kid, you're screwed."

"Huh?"

"There's nothin' I can do. Deal with it. People like you come in here all the time. You've got mono, or strep, or somethin' like that, but there's nothin' I can do. Sure, I could give you some drugs, but what good would that do?"

"Uh...is there anything I can do? I can barely breathe!"

"Jesus, do you listen, I told you, tough it out, and you'll be fine in a couple of months."

MONTHS? Were we gonna have to cancel the tour? WAS I GONNA DIE?!

After checking out and sleeping late the next day, I was better.

Fuck that doctor.

We enjoyed our time at the cabin for the next day, until more bad news came: Phil was gonna have to leave the tour. He was going to have to fly home for a funeral in Portland, and none of us had the cash to fly him back to meet us.

After saying our goodbyes to Phil and Katie (who was also parting ways with us), we weighed our options: Drive back home and cancel the rest of tour, or tough it out and figure out how to play without Phil.

We decided on the latter, and well, it's been interesting. Danielle and Kevin have learned a couple songs on the bass, having never played it before, and there's even one song where Kevin plays bass for half the song, and trumpet for the other. Yeah, I know, right?!

Phil is definitely missed, and we can't wait to be home to see him again. Hopefully we make it back in one piece.

Oh, before I go, one last bit of news: our most recent show was at a BOWLING ALLEY WITH HARRY AND THE POTTERS! Yeah! And they even played "Save Ginny Weasley from the Basilisk"! My favorite!

- Rob

Boston

Portland's name was chosen on a coin toss.  The other name would be Boston.  Based on our experience there, it'd have been a fantastic sister city.

The show was amazing, the people were genuine and generous, and it had one of the worst penis grafittis ever.  Only a bonus.

More later!

Stay well,

Phil

RICHMOND SUCK CITY!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we've been pretty far behind in updating this, but JESUS GOD do I have a bunch of crazy shit to tell you guys about.

I'll start as far back as I can remember: a few days ago.

Richmond, Virginia was pretty much the shittiest experience any of us have had on any tour, and the shittiness of it was magnified by how awesome of a time we had the day before (playing in the ocean waves at Virginia Beach, drinking beers discreetly in the sun, and singing along to sweet Jimmy Buffet covers on the boardwalk). We were scheduled to play at this anarchist collective house in Richmond, which we figured would be great, judging by our political leanings and previous experiences at such places. Gee boy howdy, were we wrong.

We rolled up to the house and immediately noticed the huge mural painted on the front of the house that said "DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF ALL THE PEOPLE MURDERED BY THE STATE" and had a painting of a pig dressed like a cop getting beaten up by a bunch of people. Funny, yes (hell yes!), but indicative of the sort of venomous anger we were about to encounter from the people inside the house. The next few hours consisted of them laying down the strict rules of the house while we were under their roof, waxing philosophical about the best way to kick people's ass during the revolution (a sock full of broken glass or a boot with nails in it?), and members of the household running out the front door every five minutes to yell incoherently at every cop car that drove down the street. We then played a short acoustic set to two people that lived at the house in their living room. Apparently, even though we had been invited to play there, nobody bothered to tell anyone, or even wanted to have a show at the house. Yeah, it was a pretty intense couple of hours.

Here's where shit gets crazy.

Later that night, one of the members of the house invites us to go swimming in the river (hell yeah!). Katie, Kevin, myself, and 2 people from the house hop in the van and head down to the river. As we approach the river, a man sitting alone at the top of the hill angrily asks all of us for a cigarette. We pass him and head down to the water, where there is a shallow creek running into the bigger river. There is a large object in the middle of the shallow creek.

"Holy shit...is that a body?"

"No, no, it must just be some rocks..."

We ventured a bit closer...

"Oh my god, it's a fucking body! Call the 911!"

There, lying face down in the creek was the body of a woman. While Kevin called 911, I waded into the water to see if she was still breathing. As I got closer, it looked like she was breathing slightly, and suddenly, she rolled slightly to her side and breathed in a mouthful of water and air. After rolling her over to her back, loudly asking for her name and whether she was OK, we helped her up and determined that she was completely wasted, and couldn't remember how she ended up face down in the river. For sure, within a few more minutes she would have drowned if we hadn't stumbled across her.

Remember the dude who angrily asked us for a cigarette at the top of the hill? At about this time, he had made his way down to the sandy beach of the river and started yelling at both us and her.

"Aw, leave that bitch alone, she's just doin' it for attention! She always does this shit! Goddamnit bitch, now they're gonna think I tried to drown you in the river! Get the fuck over here and put on your shoes!"

After several minutes of yelling and confusion, we determined that they were, in fact, together, and both completely black out drunk. I got their names and address, under the guise that I might be able to give them a ride home, and went to talk quietly to our crew.

"Listen, I wanna call the cops. We don't know if this was an attempted rape or murder, or just a drunken night, but either way, this girl is in a terribly abusive relationship. We should make sure she's safe."

The anarchists eyed us angrily.

"We don't call the fucking cops for ANY reason."

"Um...okay, what are your other options?"

They stared at us blankly. Jesus.

Eventually, we made it back to the house where I discreetly called the cops, asking them to check in on the girl to make sure she was safe. The anarchists were pissed that they didn't get to go swimming, calling the two drunk people "just some Richmond white trash" and that "this shit happens all the time". A great excuse to not get involved. Talk about nihilism.

Needless to say, we woke up the next morning and GOT THE FUCK OUT OF TOWN!

Now, before I sign off, I want to be clear that this was the dregs of anarchism, a bunch of kids running around with a black and white view of how the world should work, and it doesn't necessarily represent that community as a whole. But good god, lemme tell ya, we were all pretty glad to get the heck outta Richmond!

Next up: more awesome stories from NOT sucky places! ALRIGHT!

- Rob

Tour songs

If I could explain what 3:53am is like nearly 5 of 8 weeks into a nationwide tour, this would be the most interesting blog in the world.  But it's not that easy.

I'm plugging away at a phone with a backlit keyboard, and it seems like each time I know where to start, the screen times out and it's lost with these little light up buttons.

It's so strange.  The smile you give when you first meet a new face is so genuine.  The introductions vary, but they're the most rewarding encounters.  But giving that, and only those brief glimpses of yourself, is so exaughsting.  Some folks you meet for an hour, you share the most pressing details of your life, and you lose track before you can say good night.  Others you get to know all day, and you share just enough for a wave goodbye.

It's a weird way to travel.

Back home you make fleeting connections, a word or two, "oh, i got your text" is about all you hear, even though you talked daily before leaving.  Some folks check in constantly, and you hadn't talked in months, or years, before departure.  There's no hard feelings of course, it's tough after a few days slip by.

So here's a story about a fox.  Condenced a little, as i'm fading out as quick as my inspiration to write fades in.

A little fox was born in a traincar, eyes closed to the world for the first weeks of life.  In the first days, there wasn't much more to his world than the rumble of the tracks, and the occasional shrill sound of steel, iron, and all the other metals that turn the gears of transit.

When we are born, or adapt, into a situation, whether it be hectic or passive, it becomes the standard of our state.  This fox didn't have much but a few consistent sounds beneath his paws, and shaking his whiskers.  That is until the train rolled into town.

Coming to a halt outside of the Silver Dollar Bar, established in the early part of the century when trains were the network that kept the towns alive.  Train time is consistent in every city, before that noon and midnight were subjective.  The fox couldn't see, but the sounds he heard gave meaning to existance.  There was something more than grinding gears.

The town knew those train lights meant everything would be alright.

He wasn't sure how long or far he had traveled when his eyes came to open, but they did passing a town where two rivers collide, but all industry had died.  The train didn't stop there.

When it did, with whiskers sensing and paws warm to the ground below, the fox began his life away from the boxcar where he was born.  But the grapes were sour and the fruit seemed to be peeled and cored before he could find even skin to taste.  There was enough to get by, but it didn't seem enough.

And he never did find the fun in living in a hole.

Seasons lapsed, and the fox couldn't fnd a reason to stay put, so he ran.  He ran to the tracks, but no train would stop.  So he ran along the familiar heat until he (as a sly fox would) jumped into a crate that was set to be shipped, not too far from where he began to run.  As sly of a fox as he is, he couldn't quite read.  He had no idea where he'd be off to, but he sat and waited to be shipped, in a crate that read "Silver Dollar Bar".

As the station neared, the fox's ears perked up.  He knew the voices, the light that hit his unopened eyes, and each sound was the same. Who knew you can recall something you never had a chance to remember.  Or was it never a chance to forget?

When the train slowed, he slipped between the cracks to find every sight that could match the sounds.  With imagination to explore and skeptisism to understand, he found a town where each grape was sweet, the grass was so soft to the paw, and all the fruit was whole.

And living in a hole wasn't half as bad as it sounded.

The fox knew this place so well, even though each step was a new sight.  Or so he thought... it seems that the sly little fox didn't know he was on a shorter journey than he'd known.  Those cars he called home were only local service between ends of town, he'd ran so far, and rode so long, only to find himself at the other end of the yard.

Perhaps the world doesn't always feel whole... but finding the heart to explore the world around us, when it feels so stagnant, can bring the fruit of our eyes, ears, hearts, paws, and whiskers to fruition.

Stay well,

Phil

Punk Rock

>Our right mirror fell off...

Is it broke?

>Well, no, it's just in two pieces.

We could glue it back together.

>We could just duct tape it.  That's PR.

But that would look--

>Even more PR.

It's just going to fall off again!

>That's the most PR.

Lexington.

What a strange man I met.  I'm not joking, this is his exact rant, condensed down.  His name was Don Ho.

"You know how to fix the oil spill?  Put 58 million pounds of dawn in the ocean to cut the grease.  But you may be worried about the fishies?  Well fuck the fishies.  You'll go to the store and buy fish and it will tastelike detergent.  So what?!  Do you think I'm a man or a woman?  I'm both.  My vagina is on my knee, it talks to me.  Sometimes I talk back, I say... I say good girl.  I'm dating Hannah Montana. It's true.

My friend is a half bear, half man.  He lives in the park but I haven't seen him.  He gets in trouble for trying to steal the honey from Krogers.  Maybe he was hit by a car.

I have this rock, i think it's from Saturn, which is my planet.  (My friend Joe says "that looks like petrified wood.") Oh is that what it is? ("Yeah.. and that there is chewing gum stuck to it").  I see.  Women from other planets are strange.

Sex with women from Mars is no fun.  You don't feel anything.  It's like putting your penis inside a door.  But women from Pluto, they just spin around the whole time.  I've had 3 hits of mescaline and two pints of vodka."

That's about all I can recall at the moment.

Well hello there.

It's been awhile since we've updated on our adventures, but that's only because we have so much to tell.

We're currently heading from Columbus to Lexington. AKA Street-Ball Rival Town.

Kentucky proudly boasts the most winning college basketball team in history, which is quite impressive. But the Goof Punx were ready to throw down and show that when it comes our scene, we are kings of the court.

At midnight on the 4th of July, we stepped onto the pavement. Dr. Morton took power forward, P-Slam lead point, Kay-Dribbles and Dani-FunkaDunk switched on the guard.

Playing to 32 we faced up to Lexington with heads held high. Just one highlight: Rob sets a pick on the right block, Phil swings around and leaves his man in the dust, Danielle's defender drops off to close the gap, but not in time for a sweet bounce pass threaded through the key for Dani's 3 point shot.

Actually... what happened most often was general confusion, being too tired to do much but lay on the ground, and generally making an ass of ourselves as the Goof Punx fell to the Lexington Punx by a final score of 32-6.

Damn.

It's on!!

Lexington 2 on 2 challenge!

Kentucky!

Sitting on a chair with my feet up, sipping Makers, playing a banjo, watching fireflys.

Kentucky rocks.

4th of July show in Lexington! Crucial Funhouse.

Cairo Calling.

First off all, photoset here: http://picasaweb.google.com/presstheactionbutton/Cairo

Welcome to historic Cairo (KAY-roh).  A small town on the southern tip of Illinois where the Mississippi and Ohio River come together.  Years ago the town was expected to thrive, shipping routes and steam ships ran the economy.

Unfortunately the town was mostly left abandoned, as commerical use for boats turned from hauling goods to moving trash.

Walking into the town now may seem like any other highway strip town that you'd run into.  Something like Carrington for example.  While different from our standard of social interaction, it was still expected, living up to the expectation of a small American town.  If you head just east, however, walking to the river tells a completely different, and absolutely wild experience.

Cairo is often labeled as a ghost town by visitors.  The reason for this: just one block off the strip, you'll find shattered windows, collapsed buildings with no restriction.  As I took a picture of an old furnature storefront sign, bats flew out.  Not even kidding.

It takes a while to realize when something is missing.  There were a few spaypainted windows in the city (pictures following), but absolutely no tagging, or remenants from other travelers.  These were not slums.  This isn't left over excess that can be used to squat, salvage, dumpster, etc... the run down buildings only hold what people left behind.  Half finished soda, a few building supplies, whatever couldn't it was blocked off behind doors with unlocked chains.  Many of the barriers were not kicked in, but simply rotted off.

Up on the second floor of an abandoned theatre, watching for soft spots on the steps the sense of adventure was only matched by the sense of dispair.

So why have a festival here?  It is one of the most bold, and well intentioned of any DIY movement, headed by Chris Clavin.  Opening up a completely non-profit coffeeshop and bookstore, the hope is establishing new work, a stronger community, and a future for the kids.  Word is the mayor of the town told the high school that they need to leave for any hope of a future...  The town is essentially given up on from any political standpoint, previous elections only ended up in folks taking money for repairs and leaving town.

Whether the idea comes through, with a punk/music community opening new businesses, and bringing more resources to the town, or if the shop closes down, there is something fantastic about the work put in, and the sense of a special friendship with everyone who has visited that town, and wants to see travelers stop in a small town with a lot to offer.

On a lighter note, some fun media from the fest, and funny police stories are on their way.  The authorities there are complete sweethearts by the way. En route to Lexington to hang out with some new friends before heading to Chicago.  Also, we playedwith some amazing bands, and we had some good four square with Andrew Jackson Jihad, Vacation, and The Wild.

The Wild are our East Coast twins, by the way.

Stay well

Phil

OH NO! MINNEAPOLIS!

There is too much to write about Minneapolis in the few minutes I have before we have to get back in the van to head for Iowa, but I'll do a quick synopsis for now:

Drinking Hot 100 and writing "BAD A$$ DUDE" and "MR. NIPPLES" across our chests in Sharpie.

Swimming in filthy lakes in awesome 90 degree weather.

Eric's dog Boomer.

Nudity on BOTH show nights.

Someone hitting our van so that none of the doors shut! Ha, we have to all climb in and out the back door now.

5 dollar 12 packs!!!

Mixing the new album!

Hanging out in a practice space next to the band SOUL ASYLUM!!! (remember? "Run away train, never coming back"). They practiced that song, and MESSED IT UP!!!! Ha!

Update: Eric's mechanic-friend Ross fixed the doors on our van! We can now enter and exit is as we please!

Holy crap, gotta run! We're due in Fairfield, Iowa in 6 hours, and it takes 7 to get there! See ya!

Rob!!!!!!

This town is too ridiculous for a made-up blog.

So today opened with a groggy morning at the next gas station:

"Where are you all from?"
"Oh, Portland"
"You mean, like Ore-gone? What are you doing all the way out here?"

It was about then I realized how far from home I am.

Though some hang ups are expected, this one is still on the strange side. Two time zones away, in a town of about 2,200, it doesn't take long for people to take notice of you. We had a few approving shouts from passing cars (one fine lady gave Noah a total of 3 Heyyy!'s in one afternoon!). We strolled to a bar on main street (one of the two open businesses... it was that or the bowling alley) and slowly made our way into the hearts of Carrington residents.

Well.. at least the bartender. We went to the local burger/ice cream joint during the Father's day special. It was a strange mix of awkward smiles and glances... but just often enough we got genuine welcomes. Even a wink here and there, Rob reports, from the cashiers. And the food was pretty much amazing as well.

After feeling somewhat comfortable with the townfolk and the situation at hand (it was an absolutely beautiful day in this town, by the way) we went to the gas station to buy some beer and set up camp. Then we awkwardly returned to the bar, since alcohol can't be sold in normal stores. Whoops.

Anyhow, by the end of the night we were roughing the outdoors. By watching Boondocks on the laptop plugged into the RV outlet. We covertly drank our beers in coffee cups until a rally race of drunk dirtbikers flew through the city park at nearly midnight. So with the tension out of the air, we relaxed the rest of the night away, and we're all snuggled in to wake up and hit the mechanic at 8am, and continue on to MINNEAPOLIS! Woowoo.

Carrington North Dakota

A quick tour of our first BIG STOP!

Why not, Minot.

A land of majestic beauty.

North Dakota

Big news folks! Noah crapped his pants last night!!!

Big news folks! Noah crapped his pants last night!!!

Missoula was great. We played at our pal Andrew's house and there were plenty of old friends, cheap scotch, and rock and roll - so much, in fact, that the cops came, but not before everyone finished playing. Win! Jay and I then drunkenly ended up in downtown Missoula at 3 am and got dinner bought for us by our pals in the band Candyland Liberation Front. Jay asked for a coffee cup from the waitress and ended up walking around the rest of the night sipping a mixture of gravy and corned beef hash out of it through a straw. Gross.

Meanwhile, Noah, Danielle, and Andrew were walking back to the house from the bread dumpster, boxes in hand, when Noah stops dead in his tracks.

Noah: "I have to poop."

Danielle: "Noah, we're 3 blocks from the house."

Noah: "It has to happen now."

All in one movement, Noah put his box of bread down on the sidewalk, jumped over the white picket fence of a nearby house, and then began moaning uncontrollably. A few minutes later he emerged with a sheepish look on his face.

The next morning we all awoke to Jay singing Bonnie Tyler in the shower while drinking a shower beer.

Snow...

'Big sky' country decided to be 'big pissed off cloud' country on our way to missoula tonight.  I know the weather has been lackluster back home, but we didn't expect to face snow today. 

It's 6am here, and our good friend andrew is practicing for us as we drift to bed. Full events and lots of good stories tomorrow.

And away we go.

Spokane bound. More to come.

One Week

Just one week left until we hit the road!  Tons of exciting ideas are coming up, be stoked!  Spokane and Missoula best be ready for our return.  Speaking of those two towns, they're the only ones i've personally visited outside of Washington DC.  I'll write more about them rather soon.

We'll be playing our kickoff show tomorrow at the Red and Black Cafe, come by and dance along.

p.s. stay tuned for a fantastic science segment

Taxpayers w/ Good Luck!

Our friend Evey got some cell phone pictures to tide us over until the video comes around on the Good Luck show! This was all a fun time and a half. Thanks to everyone who came out!

Dan Grimes, used car superstar

We went van hunting today!  Here's Rob on our day's adventure. Mostly a test of our mobile blogging ability!

Location : 3605 SE Caruthers St, Portland, OR 97214,

Two shows left!

Just played one of the most amazing shows ever... It'll make me miss this town a little bit once we take off. Good Luck played an amazing set, and we'll have pictures and video from all the action soon.

We have just two left in the city, one at the Red and Black Cafe (6/9), the other at Camel House (6/12)

In other news, we're hunting vans... we have our eyes on one, glorious updates to come.

Recording Session

In the days of April we got together, yelled, strummed, shouted, and made funny faces around some microphones in the process of recording an album. It's all done from our side, now it's in mixing, and soon you can have it in your hands. In the mean time, enjoy these pictures from our time in the "studio".



Much love.

Here we go.

Tour preperation.

Well hello there! This is Phil Gobstopper from The Taxpayers.

This will be the home for the daily tour blog for The Taxpayers nation wide tour kicking off June 12th in Portland, OR. Our first stop will be Spokane, WA on June 16th. Daily pictures, clips, adventures, and probably hours of mid-west driving discussion will be happening here.

We have a lot of dates that are tentative, but the rough listing can be found on THE SPACE.

http://www.myspace.com/thetaxpayers

I'll update the blog with our remaining shows and some other details until then.

Take care!
Phil and The Taxpayers